Mediocrity
by Katylin Lou
Summary: Andrea refuses to be ordinary. There is nothing worse than being average. In a search for her true self she turns to a man famous for being more than average: Sherlock Holmes. But will Sherlock accept her as his assistant? And how will Andrea cope with a case featuring a girl who could be her? Will SH allow her to care or might he himself start to feel? PLS REVIEW! (any kind)
1. Author's Note

Hiya, auther's note here!  
This story is a crossover between two seperate ones, which – eventually – will crash together. The first chapter starts off with Andrea and Sherlock. Andrea's story will be continued every second chapter. So she's gonna be in chapter 1, 3, 5, 7 , etc.

All the even numbered chapters are going to feature Emily. In Emily's story there is no Sherlock until the stories crash. Hence, if you're here just for SH fun, feel free to skip all the even numbered chapters. If you like my style of writing and are curious about something new, then I'd be more than happy to see you in every chapter

Xx

Katylin


	2. Chapter 1: (Andrea) Running away

Andrea was bored. She had finished law school, finished police academy, done medical school and had in the meantime found the opportunity to learn Italian, French, Russian and German almost perfectly. Spanish just wouldn't do anymore, she needed something new. As a twenty-four year old easy learner she was just bored out of her mind by the ordinary.

"Can I get you something?" asked a voice behind her.

"No", she answered evenly. "But you can remove something. Please, show yourself out".

With a sad face her newest boyfriend obeyed and left her. Absentmindedly she gazed on her nails, the polish worn down by scratching it and never quite caring enough to take the time to put new one on.

"Another case solved by Sherlock Holmes" read the Times Magazine Online.

Apparently this guy was a hyper intelligent dude solving crimes in mid London...

Sighting Andrea closed her Laptop. If she just had the publicity to attract victims to consult her too!

The train took two hours until she had reached Southwark station, from where she continued walking. She had to stop by her sister's before she could start to fulfil her dreams.

At 221B she stopped and knocked, a strong and fierce knock. Andrea was not the kind of person to be shy. John Watson opened and Andrea walked right by him. "Wait, what are you doing?", he exclaimed as the 5'3 foot woman with spicy black and violet hair bolted for the stairs. By now she had reached the living room of the two guys. Sherlock didn't even bother to look up.

"I am applying" Andrea stated.

"Good luck with that. Bye", Sherlock answered, unimpressed.

"I am applying as your assistant" she insisted. "Give me a chance, give me a task, and I will solve it in twelve times less than average".

"Why don't you just go back to your university career – pardon – careers, go on learn some more languages and keep on thinking of what goals you want to reach in your life and what kind of style to follow, gosh life is just _that _ hard on you right, I mean all the possibilities, will you go back to your skater-girl-phase – and one would mean you'd have outgrown that by now – or be the promising and responsible .. -what is it..lawyer?- you could be?".

Andrea had known something like that was going to expect her. Without flinching she continued where she had started: "well, you are believing to be more intelligent than I am, so since you are sure I can't make it – give it a try. Try me. Any task. Any time. I succeed and I'm your assistant, I fail – don't pretend like you wouldn't enjoy a little show".

With a bolt Sherlock stood up, reached for the nearest books and put them in her hand. "Book 1, the easy challenge, it's about different types of insects and spiders, how their species appear, reproduce, whether they are a danger to humans or not and how or what they feed. Barely 500 pages, no biggie. It's 7pm, so I am going to test you on it tomorrow at 7am. The second book is a novel, but I'll explain that challenge later"

"No problem".

The landlady seemed to have heard the conversation because as Andrea intended to leave she shook her head. "You can stay here child, saves you time to travel and you can learn".

Thankfully Andrea accepted, otherwise she had planned to stay on the streets rather than ask her sister for a stay.


	3. Chapter 2: (Emily) A new start?

"Now please give a warm welcome to the director: Emily Neat, twenty one and already on her break-through!"

When Emily walked down the aisle she felt as if that was the day she married. She smiled although she wanted to cry. The whole pressure seemed to crash down on her now, now that she had to seem tough, mature and self-secure. In the US law she was only just a grown-up. Yet she was about to have to direct a movie project with some very famous actors and actresses. Now she was supposed to hold her welcome speech, to introduce herself and to make the celebrities understand that someone who just graduated was able to give them advices and to guide them. It was an impossible job and the negative side aspect was that - should she fail - there were plenty of people ready to replace her. She had managed to get the job just because she happened to be friends with the director's son who had suggested her. His dad wasn't very happy about the choice but he believed his son who argued that it was necessary to give unknown people a chance too.

Emily straightened her skirt and took a deep breath. She still had her Ipod headphones in one ear, the volume turned up high. She knew it was going to cause gossip, but she also knew that if she wasn't doing it she was going to speak too low for the amount of people present.

"Hey. As you heard before my name is Emily. You might think that I'm terribly young to direct this movie, but let me tell you, I am not going to let age matter. I will not tolerate if you come late or drunk or forget your lines just because I'm younger. You already received your scripts and the plan for your wardrobe. It would be unnecessary to introduce myself any further, so if you have any questions you can come to me later, but otherwise I will see you again when you have your next show-up. The timelines were also handed to you, so ... umm yeah, get busy learning your lines"

She went off stage again and waited at the organisation desk for people to come with questions. Meanwhile she pretended to organize some papers in order to look more professional. Thank goodness it always took a while to turn a computer off.

There was a lot of confusion about her speech, she could see that. But it was only good if the actors and actresses now knew that she was going to be a strict lead.

Two actors came to her and one she could see leaning to the wall next to the exit. He was going to wait for her, so he could question her alone. It didn't actually frighten her, but it didn't please Emily either. She just noticed his tall figure, and then she turned towards the other two actors.

One of them was quite famous, she knew him well from many films.

Still she only said "Yeah?" as if he disturbed her greatly.

"The timeline says that I have to wear my pyjamas during an outdoor take"

The other actor interrupted "Actually we think all the costumes are mixed up"

Emily wanted to scream, couldn't the costume lady do one simple task and get those things right? If things started that badly, how would it be during the screening?

"Well then use your brains" she hissed instead, not actually intending to be so mean, but she very well intended not to show her despair about that fact.

The actors, John – the famous one – and the one whose name she did not know, gave her a weird look and walked away.

While Emily zipped her laptop-bag shut the one from before came towards her. At first she only noticed his leather jacket and the self confidence which radiated from him. But then she looked up and couldn't help but stop breathing. "Ian" she said evenly.


	4. Chapter 3: (Andrea) Something's off

Andrea dealt easily with her first challenge. After reading the book twice, which she managed only in quite some time, even though she was a fast reader, she felt confident enough to skim through the other one, the novel. What could Sherlock possibly want from her with that? Surely he wasn't going to let her read a simple novel.

The sun started to come up again, light gently shone into her room, which was small and nearly empty but still better than nothing. Yawning Andrea cuddled into the sheets and slept for the two remaining hours. Her alarm was set at 6.50am, she knew she had never needed more than ten minutes to get up. Always pushing snooze? That was something her sister would do, not her. She awoke practically as soon as her mobile started vibrating. Sherlock looked far more awake than she was, but then again, she had spent the night learning.

"What is a patephylisia" Sherlock started in a monotone voice and Andrea smirked. "Nothing, you made that up"

Without any sign of approval Sherlock nodded and continued a few randomly selected questions, all of which Andrea passed easily. After a while he closed his book and looked at her.

"Everybody with a little motivation to learn could have done that" Andrea shrugged, although she felt a little hurt. It had not been nice to stay awake the whole night just in order to drill herself on a subject she didn't even care about.

"So what's the second challenge then?" she asked.

"Remember the novel", Sherlock answered smoothly. "I'll ask you numbers, page numbers, and you are going to tell me which word is the first on that page"

Andrea swallowed hard but didn't let her expression change.

"Til when?" she simply asked.

"5pm, today"

When Andrea left the room John Watson, who had only been able to witness the last part, since he had always been a heavy sleeper, sat down next to Sherlock.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" he asked his friend.

"I'm educating a spoiled child to stop believing" Sherlock replied.

"Don't". Watson insisted. "Please, Sherlock, for the sake of god, please don't take this girls dream! Couldn't you have just told her, that we don't need an assistant?"

"_We_ don't need an assistant, John" Sherlock said slowly, his mind already on something else. "I don't need an assistant as well, but I do appreciate a little fun".  
"So?", John asked, anger starting to boil up. "So what's so funny about shattering a girl's image about herself?"

Smiling, Sherlock replied "Oh, I don't want to shatter her image" Relieved John sat back. "So you're going to tell her .." he stopped, because Sherlock had his typical bemused look on his face, the look that said "John, you are missing something". "What?", he asked, annoyed.

"I'm not planning to shatter her image about herself. I am going to shatter her existence. John, I'm going to break her" Bewildered John stood up. "Now you have gone completely crazy" Shocked and irritated he continued to walk around "Sherlock, please tell me you still have some piece of humanity within your soul"

"Do I have a soul?", Sherlock asked, curiously.

"Don't worry, tough, John, she needs that crash".

Without another word John left. It was sometimes better to leave his roommate than to continue trying to pick up a fight with him. Watson thought about warning Andrea, who he could see through the glass door sitting in Mrs Hudson's small basement, fanatically scribbling down numbers and words. Poor girl.

But his friendship to Sherlock was too deep to be betrayed for Andrea, who knew, maybe Sherlock was right about her after all. There was something odd about her, definitely. So maybe he knew how to handle that situation. Maybe he was just acting out and not really planning on hurting her. John just hoped, that Sherlock was capable of knowing, that a person could also be hurt emotionally.


	5. Chapter 4: (Emily) or an old love?

"What a coincidence".

Ian didn't reply, he just looked at her.

"Do you have a question?" Emily asked, trying to sound polite but not too polite.

"Yes I have a question" Ian replied, his eyes focusing on her, his voice low with anger. "How old are you Emily?"

Emily winced. "The announcer told it before, maybe you should have listened" she said calmly, trying to move past Ian.

He only outstretched his arm and leaned against the wall, with this motion being between Emily and the way out.

"Maybe I did listen" he said sharply.

Emily uneasily tried to move around Ian on the other side, but he pushed her back, now imprisoning her with his arms against the wall, one on her right side, one on her left. There was nearly no space between her and Ian and she felt his breath on her.

"Then there is no need to ask, isn't it?" she whispered. "

So it is true then? You are 21?"

Emily nodded, slowly.

"How come that I got a year older while you got four younger?"

Emily shrugged, she didn't want this conversation, really didn't. She tried to duck away under his arm, but he moved with her, now holding her, his hand on her shoulder, her back on the cold wall, his breath still in her face. Emily knew that he wouldn't let her go before she said the words.

"Yes" she finally said. "Yes, I lied to you. I was nineteen"

When she saw his face she hastily added "nearly twenty tough" but it didn't change much.

His eyes were cold and when he looked at her there was only hate in his face.

"I will make you regret this".

He let go of her shoulder but then he took another step towards her, so that she had to look up to see his face.

"Never as much as I regret it, but you will regret this!" With that he moved away and went out.

Emily remained alone in the dark auditorium, chewing her lip. "Shit" she whispered. "Shit!" Then she went out as well, carefully locking the room behind her. Well, maybe Ian didn't mean it, maybe he just threatened her to make her feel uncomfortable. How could he make her regret what happened between them anyway? It had been the day before her twentieth birthday and Ian had been her birthday present, even if she never told him. She hadn't told him her age when he asked, but when she asked "why does age matter?" he insisted that he would walk away if she were under-aged.

"Look, I haven't got the best morals, but that is one I still have. If you are under-aged I'm going to go now, sorry" In her desire for him she said the first number above 21 that came to her. "I'm 25" she quickly breathed, followed by moving closer to him "Do I now fulfil your criteria?"

He had answered by kissing her passionately. Some people just took the code "Half your age plus seven" too seriously! Emily sighted, she had been sure that she wouldn't see him again ever. It had been for one night only, her first, her perfect birthday. And yet she didn't feel guilty for lying to him – she didn't intend on suing him anyway, so why was he making such a fuss about it? And for Christ's sake, she hadn't been like a drunk fourteen-year old. She had been nineteen, sober and very attracted to Ian. Why did he have to make such a big deal out of this? His reputation was intense anyways...

Sighting again she checked on the wardrobe schedule. John had been right, it was completely messed up.


	6. Chapter 5: (Andrea) Failing at life

Andrea spent the whole night working her way arouns Sherlock's task. She wasn't good at memorizing numbers and she was not going to manage, unless she tried to find a way around. There were three possible ways to cheat, one she could write on her arms and legs and cover it by her clothes. But considering it was Sherlock she was trying to fool, that possibility seemed too less reliable.

Two: She could write everything on a piece of paper and slip it under a napkin or something, going right by the saying: "You overlook a forest because you are standing inbetween a buch of trees".

Three: She could just learn and try and hope to randomly get the numbers and words right. Andrea tried to figure out which of the numbers were more likely to come up than the others. Every normal person would go for the last pages, testing if she made it through. Sherlock might suspect that and start with the early ones.

When her learning time was up she met Sherlock with a smile. "I'm ready", she said, although she was not. She had decided against cheating.

The first number was impossible. So was the second. When Sherlock asked her the third page number Andrea noticed a mirror behind him. How convenient! Smirking she read the following 25 answers off and leaned back in her chair. 

"You failed", Sherlock commented, unmoved.

"What?", Andrea asked, confused. "Why?!"

"None of your answers were the right ones"

"I don't understand" she said slowly, truly not comprehending what happened.

"The mirror was a good idea, Andrea, but do you really think I need the book to check you? I put the cover on a different book and misled you on purpose, really, you could have seen that come!"

"No", Andrea whispered, shocked. Although, yes, she could have seen that. Why? Why had she been so eager to cheat, so eager that she went right into Sherlock's pretty trap.

Watson had watched their little chat and bemused he continued to read his book. It didn't seem like the news had "broken" Andrea. Maybe things weren't going to go down.

"You know", Sherlock continued. "You could get a second chance if you kneel down and kiss my shoes"

"Really?!" Andrea exclaimed. John put his book away, his concern rising again. "Really?!", Andrea repeated, her voice cutting through the silence of the old room. "Really!?"

Sherlock just watched her.

"I spent two days learning stuff which doesn't make sense, which isn't necessary knowing, simply said: Nonsense! I spent two days learning nonsense and NOW you turn out to be an asshole?"

Sherlock still didn't react, but Watson could almost feel how he was pleased with himself. For a second he thought about getting up and calming Andrea down, but then he decided otherwise.

Andrea had jumped up from the chair she had been sitting on and glared at Sherlock.

"Ah, now, don't get all worked up on it, darling, I was just trying to give the ordinary a second chance to make up for the cheating attempt"

It didn't sound like Sherlock at all, to call Andrea darling, but she couldn't know that. With a quick motion she slapped the taller man right across the face. Smoothly he caught her hand after the blow, not flinching at the strike. Holding her wrist he remarked "Now, why would you do that?" The calmness in his voice made Andrea stand still and for a second she was just not moving. She knew, Sherlock was taking her pulse, and she knew, that it should be higher. The fact, that her pulse was completely calm showed, that she was used to go through too many fights to be moved by yet another one.

Softly, nearly caring Sherlock stroke his thumb over her wrist, gently tracing the line of her veins a little, then he let go. "I take your reaction as a no, so please, you can go now"

"The f*ing mirror!", Andrea shouted. "Why didn't I think of it being a trick!" Still outraged she sprinted across the room and with full force thrust her fist into the mirror, shouting bad words and "ow" at the same time.

"Watson", Sherlock said and nodded towards Andrea. "Take care of her hand and arm, I think she might have some injuries" Watson was already next to Andrea, putting a towel around her bleeding hand. Meanwhile Andrea was crying, more out of anger than of pain, but still, Watson felt a bit sorry for her, tears streaking down her cheeks.

Plus, and that was what concerned him more, she had started to hyperventilate, and between choking coughs she continued to insult Sherlock.

"Give her some sleep medicine" Sherlock suggested, then he left the room, without even glancing back.

"You will be fine", John assured Andrea, but she didn't really seem to care. "I don't want to be ordinary. I am ordinary. Oh my god. I am ordinary. What now? Oh my god" she repeated, over and over again, shaking with sorrow and pain.


	7. Chapter 6: (Emily) Can you stay?

The next day didn't really turn out any better than the first, the actors and actresses were hostile and intimidating. Nobody seemed to care whether she felt welcomed or bothered with what she was saying. Emily kept her attitude and mirrored her colleagues in hostility. The situation somehow seemed to get worse rather than to improve. One day she called Ian out because he couldn't get his lines straight. A few minutes afterwards he seemed to have disappeared, so she had to ask the crowd whether they knew where he went.

"Maybe he was having a fling with some under-aged bitch pretending to be grown and got arrested for it?"

The insult wasn't direct, not everybody could understand the connection, but too many did.

"Oh I would take her any age", some guy in front row roared.

"Shut up", Emily answered, before she could stop herself.

"Uh, I thought you wouldn't mind? Or am I not famous enough to satisfy you?"

Meanwhile the whole crowd was giggling and laughing.

"Give her some drinks and she won't notice", said somebody from the back row. It was Ian, he had returned. That was enough for Emily.

Emily Neat had never had an easy life. At the age of 14 she had fallen in love with a guy who walked away, taking her heart and stepping on it in the process of humiliation – it had been her first heart-break and it wouldn't have caused any damage if not in her search for comfort Emily had started to trust another guy – a trust which nearly cost her life. So when at the age of 15 she was approached by Aaron, a very religious, very caring and soft person, she crumbled under her destiny and got together with him. Almost 4 years they had spend together and Emily Neat returned to be the neat girl everybody adored but at the same time found horribly boring. Her life was dull, Aaron understanding and loving. He brought her flowers, held her when she cried, even if it was because of him and when he got out of college he earned good money to provide for both of them. Almost 4 years Emily had lived up to everybody else's expectations. She had finished college with good grades, had proven herself to be a gentle girlfriend, moved in together with Aaron and started to forget about all the bad stuff that happened in her world. But when she got that first ticket to LA a year ago she had realised her chance to break out.

"Break out before it is breaking you" was a line of a song Emily adored and it was about time to break out.

On the airport of LA she had met Ian and for the first time in her life Emily wanted to do something without thinking of consequences, something wrong, that was right for her. Ian's reputation, his looks and charisma, a few drinks and the new feeling of being in charge of herself did the trick and Emily had ended up in his hotel room. She hadn't regretted that night, not for a second. But it seemed that she was going to regret it now, regret it big time.

"Next one to act out will be fired", she remarked.

"Are you kidding? You don't have the power to do anything", teased a guy about her age.

"And that's it, give me your VIP card, you are done", she promptly answered.

As expected he refused, which led her to press the emergency button, resulting in two body guards appearing. "Please show this gentleman out", she addressed them coldly.

The rest of the day happened without any further incidents, but the buzz of the expulsion was still in the air, the antagonism towards her stronger than ever.

On her way back she was stopped by the actor who had told her about the messed up time-schedule. His name was Carter, she had learned, and he seemed to be close to John.

"You don't know anything, Emily", he told her.

She shrugged his offence off.

"You don't know how to lead a normal crowd, yet alone a famous one! Please do everybody and yourself a favour and quit"

Emily stopped walking and looked at him for a long time.

"I am no person to quit", she then told him quietly.

Carter sighted: "I am sorry, but then we will get you to quit"

When she still shook her head he took a step closer and whispered "otherwise you will be fired, it's one or the other Em, it's not like you have a choice"

"Now why would that be? There is no reason to fire me".

Although she knew he wanted that response, she couldn't help but stay in the conversation.

"We are never going to corporate and as soon as you report one too many you are out of here, darling".

If there was anything Emily hated more than lying superficial people, it was such who mock called her pet names.

"Or I could just pretend everything is fine, bring that project to a complete collapse in three weeks by that stealing your time and in result money, reputation and strength until in one showdown I'm fired with the knowledge to have cost you all a shitload of power"

Carter looked surprised for a second, then he pretended not to care.

"Don't hurt yourself", he said evenly and walked away.


	8. Chapter 7: (Andrea) Not quite leaving

Andrea slept for quite a while and after some time Watson decided to leave her side. Softly he put a blanket over her and tiptoed out of the room. When he was just about to go to his room he noticed Sherlock coming back from wherever he had been.

"How is she?", Sherlock asked without lowering his voice.

"Well. Broken!", John Watson snapped, angry with his friend. "How could you do that? And why?"

"She's going to be fine", Sherlock ensured and moved past Watson. "Now, please give me a moment with her"

Watson didn't react. 

"Alone" Sherlock enhanced and very slowly Watson backed off. For a split second he hesitated about whether he could leave Andrea alone with Sherlock, but then he shrugged his concerns off. It was his friend, Sherlock Holmes and not a psychopath. Whatever he did, he probably had a reason for it.

Sherlock noticed that Andrea was awake but pretending to still be asleep, she flinched when she had heard Sherlock wanting to be alone with her, that gave it away. 

"You can open your eyes Andrea", Sherlock said. "I'm not falling for the old 'oh I'm still asleep' trick"

Reluctantly Andrea opened her eyes and sat up, brushing the blanket off.

"Are you going to tell me how ordinary I am? Again? Or do you have some other insults ready?"

Sherlock sat down opposite of her.

"I didn't mean to insult you" he said in his calm voice. "Being mediocre is no insult, Andrea. Otherwise the whole world would feel insulted, wouldn't it?"

Andrea didn't reply, she knew that if she did her voice would start to shake and she didn't want that.

"We can't all be better", Sherlock continued. "Of course, everybody wants to beat the odds, everybody wants to be the one with more skills than the others, everybody wants to be a genius"

Andrea remained silent and Sherlock didn't seem to mind, he was mid-lecture.

"If everybody started being a genius, then we'd be average at being a genius, wouldn't we?", for the first time in his speech he stopped and looked at her.

"I am not 'everybody'" she finally said, in a voice that felt too thin for her. She didn't like the feeling of weakness that overcame her, being close to Sherlock.

"Now, you are right about that", he nodded, looking pleased with himself. "But you can't be me either. Please promise me you are not trying to be me!"

"Why?", Andrea asked, regaining her confidence. "Because nobody can be like you?"

Sherlock hesitated a little. "Yes", he then said. With a short move he put his hands on her cheeks. "And also because it would be a waste on the person you are". With that he very softly stroke her cheeks and then let go of her head entirely, standing up and leaving.

A bit dazzled Andrea remained on the couch.

Finally she got up and paid her thanks to the landlady for offering her stay. "But darling, why are you leaving already?", she asked, sounding disappointed. "I just made tea!"

"Okay", Andrea smiled. "I think I can manage to stay a little longer, just to have a cup of tea"

Outside, in front of door 221B, Baker Street Watson and Sherlock were on the phone with a very hysteric girl, getting themselves into a brand new case, a case of fame and revenge.

They noticed Andrea, when she left after her cup of tea, but since they were in their head already miles away they didn't seem to notice how she kept lurking around to listen to their conversation, as they were waiting for a cab.

"Who is this girl, Emily?", John asked "Is she something famous?"

"Well, you are the soap opera guy, how should I know?" Sherlock replied. "I just know she's some sort of newcomer, movie director"

The cab finally arrived and they got in, naming the address.

Andrea was still standing on Baker street, watching the black cab vanish into the foggy London street life. She felt sick. More than sick, she felt dead. In her right hand she could feel the cold metal of the key she had nicked.

"I don't care If you want my help" she whispered to herself. "I will be there anyway" The cold was starting to get to her bones, she shivered a little.

" I just hope I will be the detective and not the victim " – she didn't say that out loud, the thought was hammering in her mind already. In one way or the other she was going to be involved, she knew that. But which part would she have to take?


	9. Chapter 8: (Emily) Who's after you?

When Emily woke up she awoke to a teddy bear, sitting on her bedside.

She had almost manage to forget the incident with Carter, but the teddy bear came as an unhappy reminder. Firstly she didn't know how anybody would have been able to get into her room, yet alone close enough to put it on her bedside. And secondly, the teddy didn't have a head.

That was no nice gesture, so much was clear. Engrossed by the misfit teddy she threw the "corpse" in her basket and dressed for the day. Splashing cold water in her face didn't help to get the bad thoughts and feelings out of her mind. Her room had been locked, so how did the teddy get in?! Again she put her head under the stream of water, swallowing a bit and coughing in the progress.

Quickly she typed a message to her friend Michael, the one who got her the part as a movie director. After her trip to LA and her encounter with Ian Emily had changed her lifestyle, she had started a school for directing and shooting movies, made new friends – not many tough – and aimed at new life goals. Yet it hadn't been much different. Yes, she had gotten rid of her ex-boyfriend and she had her amazing LA trip and her fling with Ian in her mind, but as soon as she had been in the routine of her new directing school she fell back into old schemes, staying in, reading books, keeping a low profile. She was liked, she knew that, but nobody particularly _wanted_ her around. Sure, at the same time nobody seemed to mind, and she was always invited to parties. Yet if she left early no one would question her or even notice.

Whereas everybody of her class had gotten into some projects, some minor, some a little bigger, she had finished school with no chance of getting a job at all. No movie producer wanted her – and how should they, they didn't even know she existed. If not for Michael Emily would now be unemployed. Michael, being famous, crazy, extremely outgoing and having impact on many people managed to get her into this movie.

Her phone rang, Michael called her back. "Hey!", she said, smiling. "why are you calling? I told you I'm fine, thanks!"

Michael seemed concerned. "Emily, you are not fine, don't lie to me", he said politely "You are directing a high profile movie with some b*tches of actors, you are probably stressed out of your mind, aren't you?"

Emily sighted. "You are right", she said, although he wasn't. It wasn't the actors and the pressure that stressed her anymore. It was the death threats that kept coming. She didn't want to disappoint him tough or scare him. She was thankful he got her the part, more than thankful. Quite frankly Emily didn't understand what he liked about her, she herself didn't seem to find many likeable things about herself.

"Stay calm Emily", he said and Emily could almost hear his smile. "It's going to be alright, I promise! I know you can do that"

"Michael", she started, intending to tell him everything, but then she checked her watch and let out a squeak of shock "I gotta go!"

Michael didn't seem to mind and let her off the phone. Quickly Emily collected her things, closed the apartment door behind her – making sure she locked it properly – and ran down the stairs.

When she opened the door to the current set she nearly vomited.

"What is that?" she gulped and pointed at the director's chair.

The few actors on set looked at her bewildered.

"What?"

"That", Emily pointed at the chair and now they saw as well. Someone had put the head of a teddy bear on it, smeared it with ketchup and made it look like a battlefield.

"Take a break", one of the actors suggested. "It's okay, I understand"

Thankful to for once have received understanding she left the set. Emily knew where to go. Without hesitating anymore she went straight to Ian's flat and knocked.

Ian opened in his bath robe, looking confused.

"Emily!", he exclaimed. And then frowning: "What are you doing her?"

Emily took the head of the teddy bear out of her bag and showed it to Ian. "This has to stop!" she said abruptly.

Ian looked at her and shrugged. "I don't know what you are talking about"

"The threats" Emily answered. "The people following me, whenever I leave the set, the dead stuffed animals – this is not the first, Ian! It. Has. To. Stop!"

ian still looked blank.

"I am sorry if I hurt your ego or whatever but please grow up, please leave it just there, slap me right now if you must but stop that!", Emily finally yelled.

"Look", Ian said "I am upset about how you behaved to me, I do hate you, but I am a little to old for doing stuffed animal –revenge plans"

Emily waited.

"And I am not wanting you dead Emily. I don't like a lot of people. And still don't go around killing them off one after the other. Don't make yourself something special"

"So you didn't do it then?", Emily asked flatly.

"No" Ian said annoyed. "I didn't do that. But who knows who else you pissed off"  
With that he shut the door in her face.

Emily felt faint. She hadn't been too afraid before because she had thought she knew where all these threats came from.

Another thought came to her mind and she knocked again on Ian's door.

"What?" he yelled when he opened.

"Was Carter your doing?" she asked.

"Carter who?" Ian replied.

"I don't know, I just know his name is Carter", Emily said. "Is he your friend?"

"I don't know any Carter", Ian said. "Bye Emily", with that he closed the door again.

Emily went back to her apartment.

She looked at her phone for a while, dialing at Michael, but before he could take the call she hung up. There was another number that popped in her head. She knew the number without having to look it up.

"Sherlock Holmes" a voice answered. Emily took a deep breath, then she started to talk.


	10. Chapter 9: Emily meets Sherlock

„Now, Emily, tell me, do you think you might have enemies outside of the film crew?", Sherlock asked the trembling girl as soon as they had settled in her room.

"Enemies?", she repeated, shocked. "No!" 

"But there must be some people who dislike you, right?"

Silence.

"I'm not talking about your one night stand", Sherlock bluntly stated, disrupting the silence.

Watson looked at him startled. For all he knew Emily had not answered.

Blushing Emily looked at Sherlock. "I… What?"

Rolling his eyes and sighting Sherlock nodded at her. "You blushed when I asked you about people who dislike you and hesitated. If you were thinking of an ex-boyfriend you'd have told us. Since you look like a pretty decent girl you wouldn't remain silent about something important. Except of course it would be something you are ashamed of"

"Actually..",Emily wanted to start explaining, but Sherlock cut her off mid-sentence.

"Emily, don't waste your breath. It's not one of your ex-boyfriends who's threatening you"

A bit irritated Emily shrugged. "If you say so".

"Well of course", Sherlock said matter-of-factly. "Your boyfriend stories are all too far in the past to be relevant for us. None of them considered you important enough to stalk you over a long time in order to ruin this film for you. Plus none of them really expected you to become successful so if they would have decided to plan ahead they wouldn't really have had something they were planning towards to, would they?"

Emily was too shy to interrupt Sherlock or to comment his skills. He was right, of course he was.

"So if it were one of them, he would have been around you bugging you all the time even before you took the film. But since you didn't mention any of that- not one of your boyfriends"

Since Emily wasn't much use in the conversation Watson started interfering: "But who would threaten her then?"

Sherlock continuously walked up and down the small room. Ignoring his companion's question he asked "Are you sure the room was locked?"

"Yes, absolutely", Emily said softly.

"Then whoever did the little teddy-bear trick had a key"

"I don't know how easy it would be to get a key", Emily muttered. "But wouldn't I have heard whoever came in?"

"Obviously you didn't"

"But why?" 

"Probably because you were asleep?"

"Impossible. I usually stay awake at strange hours, I like to read at night, I don't have a common rhytm on bedtimes, how would he or she have known when I'd be asleep?"

Sherlock looked a bit annoyed, then he answered "because he spent time watching you" Sighting he walked to the door and opened it. "Watson!"

John hurried towards him.

"It's okay Emily", Sherlock promised. "It's probably just somebody who wants to get the job"

"I don't think so", she replied quietly, looking down at her hands. "It feels different, it feels as if there was a story behind all of it, more … personal… you know.."

"You said you couldn't think of anybody who would hate you enough to do this, right?"

"yea.."

"Then how would you know how personal revenge feels like? Emily, don't freak out, but nothing _happened_ yet. If they lay hand on you, whoever "they" are, I'll come back and take care of this. But until then, sorry, but there are worse things happening and I am certain you are safe"

They left the girl on her own and took a cab back to Baker street. Before they got back in Watson left to get some of the stuff they needed, orange juice, milk, eggs, simple things.

Mrs Hudson was at one of her weekly visits in the cafè opposite the street. But as soon as Sherlock went inside he noticed that somebody else was in, he could see that.

Whoever entered 221B had been careful not to make mistakes, but Sherlock noticed the position of his most recent files changed slightly. Whoever was in was clearly interested in his cases and not his possessions. But then again, so were nearly all of his burglars.


	11. Chapter 10 Andrea and Sherlock

With a sudden movement Sherlock turned around and got a grip of the burglar.

"F*", a female voice cursed, struggling to get free.

"Andrea"; Sherlock said into the dimness of the room. He could barely see her face, but it was her, definitely. For a split second he was about to let her free, but then he noticed something in her sleeve.

"Ow!", Andrea exclaimed, as he smashed her into the wall and pinned her there.

"What's the deal with the knife?", Sherlock asked and slowly removed it from her hands, still having her fixed.

Andrea just shook her head. "Let me go. I was just being curious"

Sherlock didn't react to her, since she was lying anyways. He let go of her but only enough to push her towards the sofa. "Sit", he ordered while switching on the lights.

"And now talk. You have exactly 3 minutes to explain what you were doing here and why"

He wasn't entirely mean or unpleasant, just harsh. "Nothing", Andrea said, "I was doing nothing". She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and she hated herself for it. It was her weakness, always had been. She could fight a dozen battles, say the worst things and go against the world with arguments that were sometimes true and sometimes not even that, but she could still convince the world of her position. But she could not stop herself from crying. And it was always a game of time, whichever fight she fought, she needed to get out as quickly as possible because she hadn't managed a single fight without crying. It was horrible and far more than horrible, it was embarrassing.

"Don't let people close to you, or they will hurt you eventually. Nobody can hurt you if you don't let them", a colleague once told her. It was true. Trust nobody and nobody can hurt you, treat everybody like you don't care and at some point you will stop caring. But Andrea never managed.

Sherlock could see her struggle and he also noticed how close she was to crying, her eyes were already welling up and he saw how she pinched herself to distract her emotions with pain.

"What do you know?", he asked Andrea, now in a much more gentle tone. It was a game of good-cop, bad-cop, played by one person only, himself. But it did the trick, slowly Andrea sat straight up again and started to speak.

"I know that the case you have now.. I know you are wrong"

"Why?", Sherlock asked, startled. He didn't expect that, but he knew, that she was right, so there was no point to ask why she would think so, it was more important to know where he had gone wrong.

"Because how could you not be wrong? There is no hint at anything, you might skim through Emily's life, but believe me, whatever you will find there, it will not be the reason for why she is threatened"

Sherlock himself had come to this conclusion from a different angle. Since he had ruled out all her ex-boyfriends and spoken to some of the staff members he had realised that there was actually nobody who hated Emily enough to threaten her life and health.

"I figured." He said. "And I am pretty sure you have the solution why she is threatened, if not for herself?"

"You are good"; Andrea mumbled. "You are very very close to getting there yourself"

Sherlock started to get impatient, but he was too proud to ask her to continue.

"I just hope that you will safe her before anything happenes"

Suddenly Sherlock realised what his mistake had been. Since he figured that nobody would threaten Emily for her being he had concluded it was for the spot she was working in and had thought of it as office rivalry and somebody wanting her job. He had ruled it down as something focused on threats and based on fear, just enough to get Emily to quit.

"It's not about the job"; he said matter-of-factly and stood up. "I have to go back there before somebody hurts her!"

"Yes" Andrea whispered. "Please"

Sherlock quickly turned around and grabbed her t-shirt front, pulling the smaller girl close to him, lifting her up just enough that she had to stand on her tiptoes. "We are not done here, Andrea, so don't think you got off easily. I could tape you to the wall, but I believe I need the time for saving Emily. Don't make me regret this decision. Don't you dare to run away!"

Andrea simply nodded.


	12. Chapter 11 (Emily) Gone wrong?

Hiya, Authors note!  
Thank you so much for reading and also for reviewing!

Quirkykeyboard thank you so much for your continued support, I feel flattered *.*

From this chapter on there will be a lot more Sherlock because Emily.. yea well...

When Emily got home from her shopping day she met Ian in the entrance hall of the building.

"Please stop stalking me, Emily", he said annoyed.

"I am not stalking you", Emily replied, frustrated to be always in a position where she had to defend her doing.

"Yes, of course", Ian said in a very ironical tone. "Darling, I am so sorry, but I'm really not into you. Please forget about me"

"I . Am. Not. Stalking. You." Emily repeated, enhancing every word.

"I am so sorry that it would never work out between us, but quite frankly, that's the truth. I could never be with someone as boring as you are"

"Whatever", Emily replied, intending to walk past him, but he caught her and held her on her shoulders.

Ian came very close to her, so close that she could feel him breathing. "You are boring", he whispered.

"Please, just let me go, okay?", Emily said, her voice still strong.

"And your body", Ian just let go of her shoulders, still having grip of her arm tough. With his free hand he now moved towards her breasts and his index finger stoke over the outline of her blouse, opening the push-buttons and exposing her bra.

"You don't even have a good body, Emily"; he said in a bored voice, his index finger slipping from her collarbone towards her breasts and just very shortly over them , going further down and making a halt at her trousers. He now had a grip on the outline of her panties and pulled her even closer.

Finally Emily recognised the smell. Alcohol.

"Please, let me go", she repeated, but Ian didn't answer.

"I do so much better than you", he continued. "And you weren't even good, you little whore"

"Let me go." Emily insisted now, but he put his hand over her mouth.

"I decide when you go"

But then, suddenly he came to his senses and pushed her away. "Run, you little slut", he slurred.

And Emily ran.

When she reached her room the first thing she noticed was her bed, full of ketchup and a sword, sticking out of the middle.

And then she saw the stabbed doll. She was shocked, but after a while she realised it wasn't just any doll the intruder had stabbed, it was her doll. Her childhood doll. She had named it Su-Su, since she couldn't pronounce Susanna at that time and her doll had looked like a Susanna. She had carried it around and loved it so much! And now Su-Su was ruined, stabbed in a pine of ketchup, ruined.

Quickly Emily pulled the bed-sheets off, after removing the sword. The fact that somebody had been in, had opened her drawers, had messed with her stuff, it was too painful to think about so she was distracting herself with the task to wash the ketchup out.

Rinsing it under the water didn't help much and the small sink was no use to her. Tears stung in her eyes at the thought of her poor doll. Whoever had entered her room here must have also broken into her flat at home. It gave her goose-bumps to even think about it.

The ketchup didn't vanish and suddenly Emily realised why. The slow way how it dissolved from a dark red, nearly brown-ish colour into a lighter red but never quite leaving the sheets, the way the stain remained – it wasn't ketchup. Emily remembered how she had once cut herself pretty badly wearing a white shirt. She knew how blood looked like when she was rinsing it from a shirt and now she was rinsing blood from bedsheets. This was not ketchup. The intruder had used real blood.

At the very instant Emily turned the water off.

When Sherlock arrived at the penthouse all he could see was the room Emily left. The girl was gone.


	13. Chapter 12: The warning signs

„I don't understand" Watson said. „Where would she go? It's almost night"

"She didn't leave because she wanted to, for Christ's sake, Watson, please think before you talk!"

Watson frowned a little, then he nodded. "You are right. There is the bloody doll in the basket and the blood-stained bed-sheets, it's all a little frightening"

"Especially for a girl with such a bad self-esteem as Emily's", a voice said behind them. 

"Andrea" Sherlock stated, not seeming surprised at all.

"How did you get here?", Watson asked instead.

"Texted me", Sherlock briskly answered, "so, what's your take on all that, Andrea?"

"There's a guy called Ian outside, horribly drunk, horribly apologetic, nearly crying", Andrea said. "Goes on and on and on how it's all his fault" Andrea continued to walk through the room, taking a close look at everything. "Woah, what's with the sword?" she exclaimed when she noticed the huge thing, but then she continued "Uh, yeah, the guy. It's not his fault, by the take of the room something that happened here has made her leave... She isn't the girl to pick up a fight so I figure she was always close to leaving but her eagerness and her dream for success stood in her way"

Sherlock smiled a little, not because he was impressed, but by how well she responded to stuff while at the same time being so amazingly human. How easy she got distracted!

"Well", Andrea finished. "Kinda sad. In the end her own determination to succeed caused her to fail to see the obvious and killed her"

She didn't seem particularly shaken by this deduction.

John Watson looked at her, appalled. She seemed so calm although she just said the worst ever, she made it sound like Emily was dead! "What do you mean, she failed to see the obvious?", he asked her.

Sherlock answered before she could: "That none of the attacks were planned against her. Emily made the mistake to think somebody was going after her and she never hurt anyone enough that he or she would want her dead. So Emily assumed it was safe. Unpleasant and scary yes, but safe"

Andrea nodded and Watson sighted.

"And the mistake we made", Sherlock continued, watching Andrea closely as he spoke: "Was to assume whoever was behind all this went after Emily's position as the movie director. Which wasn't true either"

Again, Andrea just nodded. "Because?", she challenged, looking at Sherlock curiously. How good was he?

"Because they came for you"

The room fell silent for some seconds, apart from the water dripping from the blood-stained and soaking wet bed-cover no sound was made. "Yes", Andrea finally whispered and you could see how her face faltered. "Yes, they came after me"


	14. Chapter 13: His Highness

For a short while Andrea continued to look tough, to stand upright and to look as cold as she pretended to be. 

"Andrea", Sherlock said, knowing the signs. Andrea was only an inch away from falling apart. "You can be glad you are alive"

Watson grimaced. That was all Sherlock could say to console her? But Andrea seemed to have thought about something entirely different than Sherlock's statements.

"Shit!", she exclaimed and jumped up. "She might not be dead!"

"I wondered how long it was going to take you to come to that conclusion", Sherlock smirked and Andrea leaned forward. Before she could slap him again Sherlock caught her wrist and shook his head, sighting. This girl was a hurricane of emotions, how could she survive like that?

"You knew she was alive and let me stall everything? She might have died the very minutes we were sitting here, doing nothing!", she hissed and ran outside. "Come on!", she insisted and pointed towards the street.

Sherlock slowly stood up and followed her. "Easy, easy", he mumbled. "Don't get all worked up"

"Don't you care _at all_?" Andrea asked him, disbelief and frustration in her voice.

"Does it help to care?", Sherlock asked back, and without waiting for an answer he continued "No. It just makes you dizzy with emotions and I might end up being a basket-case like you"

It wasn't particularly mean and since he didn't mean it as an insult Andrea just had to laugh. "_Me_? I'm being the basket-case? When did that happen? Aren't you the sociopath one?"

Sherlock smiled a little while they continued to walk up the street. There was only one street that led back from the penthouse where the cast and crew had been located.

"Don't mind me", Watson said behind them. "Don't bother. I'll find out myself what's going on"

Reluctantly Sherlock and Andrea stopped their bickering. Andrea continued to lead way while Sherlock stopped and waited for his friend John to catch up.  
"This is the only street leading to and away from the penthouse. So Emily must have taken that road, which is why we thought she must have been killed. Otherwise driving here we would have passed her or seen her, nobody saw another cab except the one we came in, John and the one Andrea came. So obviously Emily left here, walking" John nodded. So Emily had had to walk down that road. So far all clear.

"But why did you assume she was killed, just because you didn't see her?"

Sherlock nodded, approving John's question. "Two possibilities, the easy one, someone kidnapped her from the street. The more sophisticated solution? Look, here, the roadside ditch. Sometimes it is deep enough to hide a body inside"

"She could just hide there as well, couldn't she?", Watson interrupted.

Sherlock stopped walking for a second. "Exactly! Which is why she might still be alive! There were no signs of tires on the street, although it was raining heavily, the whole time, and if you look closely, the asphalt here isn't the best. You would notice a car, if it had _just_ passed, you would see the tire-prints in the muddy pieces and on those parts where the asphalt broke. On some parts of the street there is no asphalt at all, so you would see something there. As you don't: Whoever was after Emily didn't use a car either"

Impatiently John repeated his question: "Then why did you think she was killed before you thought she might be hiding somewhere"

Sherlock smirked. "We considered Emily a bit dull, that was the mistake. A dull person would not be careful and wouldn't notice if she was being followed, so the killers would have had an easy one. But then we found something in Emily's room which showed she was by no means stupid, far the opposite!"

"We?", Watson repeated confused. "Are you using the majestic plural now? Your highness, what might be next?"

"What?" Sherlock stopped his speech, confused.

"You kept referring to yourself as "we"", Watson explained, now being slightly frustrated. That must be how Sherlock felt like all the time.

"I was not talking-", Sherlock stopped, just shaking his head so that his locks flew around and tiny drops of water landed on Watson's face. "Never mind". Watson didn't dare to respond to that.

Just then Andrea screamed: "Emily!"

Quickly Watson and Sherlock sprinted forwards to catch up with her. In a particularly deep part of the road ditch you could see a figure, slumped over a stone, lying there. You couldn't see Emily's face, since she was facing towards the mud.


	15. Chapter 14: Somewhere out there

Andrea ran towards the edge and wanted to jump down to Emily when she felt Sherlock's arms around her waist. He held her back in a way which was nearly violent.

"Sherlock!", she yelled. "Let go of me!"

Sherlock didn't respond. Far the opposite, now he put his second arm around her as well, holding her with one arm on her waist and the other over her shoulders, slightly above her breasts.

"Take a look!" he said to her, his voice having a touch of anger.

"Let go of me!", Andrea repeated, "we need to help Emily!"

Watson walked up and down along the ditch looking for a way to reach the girl.

"Stop being so f*cking emotional and look!" Sherlock insisted again and still held her tightly. The restraint was hard and Andrea could feel his muscles tensing while he pressed her against himself to keep her from jumping down the ditch to Emily.

"Just take a look", he now said, a bit more polite.

And then Andrea saw it. The ditch might have looked as if it was soil ground and full of soft leaves and fresh mud, but the leaves only covered the very first layer of it, below them you could see cement and the wet leaves were no safety at all. Had Andrea jumped, she would have broken something.

A wave of relief ran through her and she exhaled heavily. Sherlock released his tension a bit and made a step backwards, away from the ditch, softly pulling her with him. Had she still fought against his grip, she could have escaped. But Andrea didn't fight him anymore.

"I am sorry", she whispered. "How do we get Emily out then?"

Sherlock pointed towards the ditch. Watson had already went up the street and found a place where he could enter the ditch, since it wasn't everywhere that deep. Emily had obviously had the bad luck to go down in a particularly deep part of the ditch. A fortune which Andrea would have shared if she had jumped after her – lying on the ground, not moving.

Watson meanwhile went up to Emily, carefully taking her pulse and turning her around. Emily had her eyes closed and her face was white, almost blue-ish, but she did have a pulse. "She is alive!", Watson shouted to Sherlock and Andrea.

"She is a live!" Andrea repeated. "Oh my god! I didn't kill her! Oh god. Thank god". She felt tears welling up in her eyes when Sherlock turned her towards himself. His face was only inches away from hers when he took her face in his hands and said: "Stop being so emotional"

It wasn't meant in a mean way or said harshly but Andrea still had to sniff a little. She was emotional, she knew that.

"You would be able to deduce so much more if you weren't an emotional wreck", Sherlock continued, stopping to touch her. "And you are quite talented"

Andrea just shrugged. He was the one who told her, she was average, she was not going to forget that.

Sherlock gazed into the distance and finished his speech: "You are not a genius tough. But never mind, you could be good. If you weren't behaving as if you are constantly pregnant, pms-ing or overtired" He looked at her after he finished his speech, almost cautiously. He needn't have worried, Andrea didn't feel insulted by his words anymore and he didn't upset her anymore.

Not even telling her she was ordinary could upset her, not from Sherlock. She had gotten used to his sharp tongue.

Watson came back from the ditch, carrying Emily in his arms. The girl had regained consciousness but she was still very weak and visibly shaking from the wet cold.

"How long were you out here?", John asked her and she just whispered something that sounded like "I don't know" but could have been everything else too.

"Sherlock", Andrea suddenly said, sounding concerned. "We didn't see anybody here, the whole time –neither when we came to see Emily, nor when we left searching her, and I asked at the reception if somebody just came in and noone did. And.." Sherlock interrupted her: "Yes, her attackers are still out"

"Attack_ers_?" Andrea asked concerned "Plural?"

Sherlock silently took notice that Andrea had obviously been fixated on one particular attacker. There must be somebody in particular then of whom she thought that he or she was out planning her death.

He didn't answer her question tough.

"I'm afraid" Andrea said after a while, in a tiny voice. "Not very afraid" she added quickly, "but .. afraid"

Sherlock chuckled "The hell of a detective you are"

"Can you".. Andrea started, being unusually shy for herself "Can I take you hand?" with that she touched Sherlock's free hand and grabbed it. He flinched a little, but then he took her hand without any further ado and held her. Their fingers crossed neatly and even if it wasn't much, Andrea felt a little bit more safe.

xxxxxxxxx

_Author's notice here! As always, glad if somebody cares to review. There might be a delay until I can post my next chapter, I'm an intern in a law firm at the moment and if some of you ever did law you might have an idea of what I'm going through. Plus that is as far as the plot I was thinking of until now goes, everything from now on is still a mystery for me too :D _

_Hope you have a nice weekend and a fluffy valentine's day – be thankful for your friends and relationships, for living in a warm flat or for being alive. There is a lot to say "thanks" for, so I don't accept "omg I'm alone" valentine's day sulking ;)_

_Xx_

_Katylin_


	16. Chapter 15: Haunted

When they reached the main street Sherlock waved for a cab and instantly got hold of one. The four people got in and Sherlock looked at Andrea bemused.

"How long are you planning on squishing my hand?"

Andrea instantly let go of his hand and felt her cheeks redden. Here, in the cab she didn't feel the danger anymore, her fear was simply gone. In the dim light of the car it seemed ridiculous she had been scared at all, but outside in the wet and foggy surroundings fear had gotten hold of her heart i a way she couldn't explain. She felt the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, realising she had been biting her lips in order to soothe herself.

"Emily, can you tell us what happened?", Watson asked Emily, who he gently placed on a seat in the cab, buckled her up and rest her head against his shoulder to make sure she couldn't bump her head against the window. "Nu'h" she slurred, no different answer than the ones she gave before.

"Do you think she is alright?", Sherlock asked his favourite doctor.

"She is frozen", Watson replied, smiling a little. "But not yet in danger. We can get her home and warm her up and I am sure she'll be fine again, don't you think?", he nudged Emily and she again said something inaudible, stuttering in the process.

They reached Baker Street 221B and Mrs Hudson hurriedly made some tea for Emily. Andrea volunteered to remove Emily's clothes and give her some of her own, so that she wouldn't have to remain in the wet outfit she was wearing.

It gave Andrea the chills to undress Emily and dress her in her own clothes, it was such an irony how she was making Emily even more alike to herself. As if their similarities in looks didn't just nearly kill Emily.

Gently Andrea walked Emily back to the living room where Emily quickly got under a blanket and fell asleep.

"Well", Sherlock said, looking at Andrea. "Time to speak up. Who are they?"

"They.." Andrea repeated. "Why do you keep saying 'they'?"

Sherlock looked at her surprised. "I thought you knew? Emily wasn't attacked by one person alone!"

"Are you sure?" Andrea asked, looking concerned.

Sherlock smirked. "Do you think I am _not_ sure?"

Shrugging Andrea stood up. "I don't have time for this"

She didn't even really intend on leaving, where would she go? It was already past midnight and the dark streets of London didn't look welcoming.

Sherlock knew this but he still said: "You know you do", to point it out.

Andrea sat down again and looked at the ceiling for a moment, then she started talking.

"You know that I am high functioning and think faster than the average person..."

Sherlock grinned at her and interrupted "or you think you do"

"Anyway", Andrea continued, "there was one girl in my med law class. She was really arrogant and believed she was the best at everything. I managed to do two exams at once and gained time by this, so I could finish before her, although we started at the same time. She was very upset and tried to reason it by having better grades, so she came up to me and asked me about my grades and it turned out, I was still better than her. And then she found out I did another uni course as well, at the same time as med school"

Sherlock interrupted Andrea again: "Come on Andrea, get to the point and stop boasting"

Andrea nodded looking surprisingly embarrassed by his remark.

"Point is, the girl killed herself. I swear, I never thought she would and I was just teasing her a little because she used to be so arrogant. Can't you imagine, how it felt for me to be teased by her before and then being actually better? I felt proud, I never wanted to really hurt her!" Andrea started babbling and Sherlock seemed to get impatient again. "Feelings..." he scoffed. "What's the _point_?"

Angrily Andrea looked at him. "I just told you the frickin' point! She killed herself"

"So you think a ghost is haunting you and attacked Emily because the poor ghost couldn't distinguish between you and Emily?"

In the meantime Emily woke up. "Are you kidding?" she said, seeming to have regained her strength after the warm tea, the blankets and her nap. "Are you kidding me? I wasn't attacked by a _ghost!_"


End file.
